Page 74 of The County Line
His shorts drop with a quick flick, landing in a heap by his feet. I feel the hot, heavy weight of him as he lines himself up, dragging his cock through my folds, teasing me with what I want—what we both need.
But right before he pushes in, I stop him.
“Wait.”
He stills, confused, but lets me turn. I push him back until he’s the one leaning against the cruiser now, arms bracing behind him. Then I drop to my knees, the gravel biting into my skin, but I don’t care.
I look up at him, soaking him in. This man—this fierce, broken, loyal man who’s survived more than most. My fingers wrap around the base of his cock, thick and hard in my grip. I stroke him once, slowly, before lowering my mouth and sucking in the swollen head.
He hisses, hands fisting in my hair. “Shit, Molly…”
I open wider, tongue flat along his underside, savoring the salt and skin of him. He’s so big I can barely manage him, but I want it—allof it. His control. His surrender. His release.
I hum around him, letting the vibrations travel through him, and he groans as I start to take more, gagging slightly as my throat tightens around him.
Tears prick my eyes and spill over, and he wipes them gently away even as he holds me right where he wants me. “You look so fucking pretty like this,” he murmurs, voice wrecked. “On your knees for me.”
I suck him harder, bobbing my head, feeling his thighs tighten beneath my grip. He’s close. I can feel it.
He pants, fingers tightening. “Let me fuck you, baby.”
But I shake my head, eyes locked on his. This moment isn’t about giving—it’s about reclaiming.About doing this our way. About everything this car used to mean—and doesn’t anymore.
“Let me swallow you,” I murmur when I come up for air, lips slick with him. And then I take him all the way down again, my nose pressing into his stomach, my throat stretched to its limit.
He groans, deep and guttural, and I feel him tense, the shudder running through him as he spills into me with a harsh curse, cock pulsing against my tongue as warmth fills my mouth.
I swallow everything. Every broken promise. Every bitter memory. Everyfuck youto the people who tried to break him.
And when I finally rise, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, he grabs me and kisses me hard—desperate, grateful, proud—pinning me against the cruiser like he never wants to let go. His forehead presses to mine, breath still ragged.
“Thank you, Molly,” he whispers.
And I know exactly what he means.
Chapter 33 – Colt
“So, what would you like to discuss today?” my therapist asks, her voice calm, measured, the kind of tone that says she’s been practicing her patient presence with her clients.
She’s sitting across from me in her cracked, brown leather chair, wearing another one of those matronly suits that make her look like she raided her grandma’s closet and didn’t shop at one of the boutiques in our small town like the rest of the twenty year olds here do.
I’m tempted to ask how old she is—she can’t be more than twenty-one judging by the lack of fine lines on her face, youthfulness behind her eyes, perpetual optimism and the ability to see the good in every situation. Still, it’s been six weeks of therapy sessions, and this is my last one. I’ve spent the past two weeks straight with Molly—inside her, around her, talking, laughing, working through all the chaos that’s been our life—and I feel like I’ve run the emotional gamut.
“I’m feeling again,” I tell her, leaning back in my chair, the words almost foreign in my mouth.
Her lips curve into a knowing smile. “That’s great news, Colt. I’m very happy for you. Is there anything that scares you about feeling so much, so quickly, especially with Molly?”
I shake my head, the answer immediate and honest. “No. I think I’ve always loved her in some way. It makes sense that she’d be the one to bring me back to myself.”
Liv tilts her head, her smile widening just a touch. “Have you considered that she isn’t the one doing that? That you’re doing this on your own and that she’s helping you find a newer, much better version?”
That hits, because Ihaveconsidered that, and I know it’s true. Molly doesn’t just make mewantto be better; shemakesme better. She sees me in ways I’ve never been seen before. Everything about her feels right, feels whole. We belong together. Like this. A decade later. After we’ve both earned some scars from our separate lives.
Liv moves on, her pen poised over her notepad. “What about the brewery opening next weekend? Are you excited about that?”
I nod, allowing myself to feel it. For the first time, I’m not just going through the motions; I’m letting the excitement settle in.
“Yeah, I’m feeling…” The words catch in my throat, and I have to swallow them down. Saying them out loud feels risky, like admitting I’m happy might jinx it. But I push past the doubt. “I’m looking forward to it. Seeing everything come together in Charlotte... it feels good.”
